Lost
by Angels Fall Hardest
Summary: Tony doesn't remember much about that night. Pepperony. Oneshot.


_Disclaimer: I do not own these characters nor do I reap any benefit from writing this story. _

_I hope you all like this; it's not one of my happier pieces. _

* * *

He just hadn't been quick enough.

The memories of that night were the one clear thing in Tony's mind, one of the few last distinct memories he retained.

He remembered delivering one last punch to the big baddy and watching him fall onto the ground, the skin on his face flapping slightly as he slapped the floor. Tony had said something snarky to him before launching himself through the sky.

He was a big guy, a strong guy—but Tony couldn't remember his name now. He didn't care to, he didn't want to. That man mattered as little as Stark did in the grand scheme of things.

He didn't deserve to be remembered, because that's just what he wanted. And Tony would do anything to avoid giving him what he wanted.

Tony remembered he had to go through a window, as it was the quickest means of exit. He remembered his fist making first contact with the glass, shattering it before the rest of him followed through.

He remembered shaking his head to get rid of the bits of glass still stuck in his helmet.

Tony remembered turning left, turning right, shooting down the street over traffic as he made his way towards his destination.

He remembered an electrical green sign that read 'dreams' had caught his eye.

Tony had been three blocks away when he saw it, the clouds of orange flame and heat burst out of the newest building to be a part of Stark Industries. He saw the shadowed debris as it toppled over in slow motion, it seemed, falling into the blackened abyss.

He could even see bits of glass from the windows fall into the fire, into the night. The smoke drifted outward first, then upward. It almost looked like it was spreading.

And all Tony could remember was thinking of Pepper, whom had been stuck inside moments ago. Pepper, whom he should have saved.

Then that's where things became hazy.

Tony might have shouted something, he might have shouted her name. He could vaguely remember being scorched by the heat, but he didn't remember flying over to the chaos.

At first all he had wanted to do was fly into the sea of flame and ember and burn, lose himself for awhile and just…forget. Tony had always thought he was good with coping, with making the best of things. He saw himself as a fighter, as a guy who could always scrape by and come out on top.

Usually, tragedy only spurred him forward, it made him hungrier for vengeance. Pain made him yearn to do better, to prove he could do it.

Yet at that moment, all he had wanted was to lie down on the burning floor, fall into the flames of the hell he truly had created. Tony couldn't think of a reason to continue on, to have a witty response. To prove anything to anyone.

No, all Tony wanted now was to hide; to rest his head on Pepper's shoulder while she told him everything would be all right, like she always did for him when he needed her to.

All he wanted was to be with her, to fall into the fire and find her. Whatever happened to her would happen to him. He'd ensure it.

Tony could hear him calling out for her, though his voice got drowned out by the sound of the gusts of fire. Plunging into the lower half of the building, Tony could feel the heat and the flames, he could feel himself basically cooking in the suit. Tony thought he had been in the building for only a few seconds, but there had been severe burns on his body after the fact.

The hospital staff later said he had been in there close to fifteen minutes. He had been sitting in the waiting room, still in the Iron Man suit without the mask. He had a paper cup of water in his hand as a doctor explained it was a miracle he had come out so unscathed.

But he had found her. A few feet from the front door, trapped under burning debris.

Her hair had been what caught his eye, he could remember how it was splayed on the white, stone floor. The red of her hair had looked like blood, or so Tony had thought in his belief she had died.

He had let her die.

Tony could have sworn he had landed beside her, watched her and her closed eyes for what felt like hours. He had thought she died.

Yet doctors told him later it was his quick thinking that had saved her life. They told him he'd carried her out and that she had lived because of him.

She had somewhat severe burns on her torso, and mild burns on her upper back and the backs of her legs.

Those were from the scalding suit, when Tony carried her out.

He had his share in maiming her. He would never forgive himself for that either.

He could see her in the hospital bed. The room smelled like store brand cleaning supplies. It had been a white and powder blue room, her red hair now looking more of it's natural shade, a lighter red.

He could hear himself apologizing over and over. He could see her, looking at him from an angle where he must have been sitting on the edge of her bed.

She had shaken her head slightly, shushing him and telling him it was okay.

That they were okay was all that mattered to her.

Interestingly, he could recall only that one instance at the hospital. He could only recall looking upon her sweet, smiling face one time in the whole mess before he promised her he would get revenge. Being with her compassion blindsided him; he didn't deserve it now, not that he ever had before.

He had let her down. He let himself down—she was stuck in a hospital bed for no other reason than his stupidity.

She told him not to hurt himself—a promise he could never commit to when he himself was the one he wanted to take down.

It was his fault she was there—villains always tried to destroy, whether it be by blowing up buildings or terrorizing innocent civilians. It was people like Tony's job to stop them, to protect innocent people. It was Tony's job to be someone to look up to, someone to aspire to be.

And he couldn't even make it three damn blocks.

Three damn blocks.

He couldn't figure out what had gone wrong that night; so many times he had done the same thing, fought the same way, but this time he had screwed up and it had almost cost him Pepper.

It had almost cost him one of the most important people in his life, if not the most important.

Tony spent days, weeks, countless hours just sitting in his lab, analyzing what was what pushed him over the edge; what had been the determining factor.

His thoughts were purely focused on that one mission, that one time he almost lost his Pepper, that one failure in a sea of others. Tony couldn't let it go, it became his obsession, his haunting fantasy that he could only soothe with alcohol.

The only time he would sleep was when he was too drunk to stand. And he'd wake the next day with an aching head, only to be reminded that Pepper was in the hospital. And it was his fault.

There was no snappy comeback. There was no big revenge plan where Tony won out and he and Pepper could share a back and forth over coffee the next morning. He lost this round, he'd been clocked out.

And Tony didn't want to play with the big boys anymore. Tony didn't want revenge, to be the big guy on campus if this is what it really meant.

Losing himself he could do; he could sacrifice himself to a thousand different causes and never regret his actions…but now, coming from a place of grief, he couldn't lose Pepper.

That was the one person who held him together, the one person who bothered to help put Tony Stark back together again when all the villains of all the worlds decided to kick the living shit out of him.

He didn't need to have that last word; he didn't need to be showy and be the cool guy yet again. Tony shouldn't have done that. It was stupid.

He should have gone head first out the window. He should never have read that sign.

Everything he did was wrong; it was a series of poor decisions that cost him almost everything.

Tony, in his drunken stupor, wondered if all his past rescues of Pepper were just luck or if really had something super about him.

He was flashy for sure. He'd always been the guy in the room you knew you could have a good time with. He'd stopped the bad guys before, he'd put his own life on the line and would a million times over, but he couldn't lose Pepper.

He'd die before he ever let her get that close to danger again.

Tony felt the glass of scotch slide from his hand. He heard it shatter but he didn't know where. He closed his eyes, sitting back on his well worn couch in his study, the one he'd been falling onto for days.

Pepper believed he was a hero, even if she didn't say it all the time. She just believed in him in all he did.

And maybe soon, Tony could begin to believe in himself again. Maybe he'd weld the suit a little more, bring it back into top condition.

And maybe he'd even take it out for a test run. Perhaps he'd even be snarky while he was doing it.

But now, all he wanted to do was rest his head on Pepper's shoulder, and have her tell him things would be okay.

No more than that.


End file.
